


I Can Love You But I Can't Love Myself

by iamfangirling



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: M/M, McLennon, My First Work in This Fandom, Some angst, i have a limited supply of motivation to write, much mclennon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfangirling/pseuds/iamfangirling
Summary: Drowning in bitter words and purple bruises, John isn't sure he can deal with it any longer.Blokes and birds popping up left and right, asking if the rumors were true. The word has spread that John fancies men and Paul can't bear to see his best mate falling into the deep pit of despair.





	1. Ch 1 - Stupid Bloke

**Author's Note:**

> So *cough cough* this is my first ever fanfiction for The Beatles :D. I'm not sure if I got their personalities right so.. Forgive me if they seem different. 
> 
> This was a prompt that my friend gave me and I wanted to write it. Thing is, I'm not sure if I'll ever continue it, due to lack of motivation :'). I might though. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

“Christ John… What happened this time?” Paul examined a dark purple bruise on John's left cheekbone, moving his eyes upward to see that he also had cuts near his eyebrow and a black eye on the right side of his face. John wasn't replying and he seemed to be captivated by the posters of Elvis and Chuck Berry that basically painted his wall. Paul frowned a bit and repeated the question. 

 

John rolled his eyes, looking down at the blanket his bruised fingers were playing with. “Nothin’ happened, Paul,” he looked up to meet doe shaped eyes. “It was just some bloke that couldn't keep his mouth shut. The norm.” He looked back down and continued to study the mattress he and Paul sat on, thinking about the words that  _ fake teddy boy wanna-be,  _ John told himself, had said not only a few hours ago. 

 

_ Just some stupid bloke who couldn't keep his mouth shut..  _ John repeated to himself. That “stupid bloke” may have approached him with a knowing smirk. That “stupid bloke” may have crossed the line. That “stupid bloke” may have just been so stupid that they decided to question John's sexuality. 

 

Paul's eyes narrowed. “Yer weird behavior is tellin’ me otherwise.” He leaned back on his arms, continuing to study his beaten up friend. John's breath hitched. “Weird behavior? What  _ weird  _ behavior? Why are you still here anyway?,” John leaned back into the pillows before continuing. “Shouldn't you be doing some chores for your da’ like  _ the good little boy you are? _ ” 

 

Paul scoffed, brushing off John's last question. “I dunno, John. You're not  _ talking  _ to me. You're bein’ all… quiet and serious. Did somethin’ else happen with that so called, “stupid bloke”?” He asked, sitting up straight. John felt heat rising to his cheeks.  _ No,  _ John thought.  _ John Lennon never feels embarrassed. Especially about something as stupid as this.  _

 

“John?” Paul said. He looked straight at Paul before he felt his cheeks getting warmer. He swallowed, beginning to look at everything that wasn't Paul all over again. He continued to stare at John with confusion and curiosity, as he was starting to sense that there really  _ was  _ something more to the fist fight John had found himself in. The injured teddy would open his mouth to say something, but close it, reconsidering his words. 

 

A sigh could be heard from the long-lashed teen. “If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to I guess,” he began to stand up from his position on the bed. “I can leave if yo-”

 

“Th-They thought I was…,” Paul froze upon hearing John's voice. “queer.” His words were barely a mumble. 

 

_ John Lennon? Queer?  _ Paul thought.  _ As in.. He fancies men?  _ The thought of John Lennon being queer was bizzare for McCartney. John always appeared appeared as straight as an arrow- chatting about the fittest girls and which ones they'd have a good snog with. 

 

But thinking of John being attracted to men made Paul's chest tighten.  _ No.  _ He told himself.  _ I thought I'd gotten over this..  _ So maybe Paul  _ did  _ think about his sexuality as well. Ever since the night John had simply looked up from his guitar, glasses and messy quiff 'n all to ask him what chord he was playing, something was different. To Paul that night, John was the most captivating thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. The way he strummed his instrument, how his eyes were shaped like almonds- his hair looking soft and fixed perfectly was something Paul definitely noted. His heart had been reacting to this oddly, just like now, with a wounded Lennon and a worrisome McCartney sitting on John's bed. 

 

Nothing big though, he claimed that night, just a small infatuation.

 

“Heh.. Daft thing to say, a-ain't it Macca?” John ended with a small chuckle and Paul sat back down, trying to calm his now racing heart. John had noticed Paul's lack of words and cleared his throat, looking away. “Um.. Well.. I mean,” Paul paused. “Are ya?” The feelings he had been forcing himself to suppress all this time were beginning to arise once more. 

 

John narrowed his eyes at him. “Am I what?” He felt his stomach fill with fear at the question. Paul shifted and he began to regret asking at all. “Uh… queer.,” he answered. “Cause if ya are, I won't judge ya or anythin’.” 

 

The room filled with a tense silence and John couldn't find himself to look at Paul.  _ I ain't queer.  _ John thought.  _ I may have fancied a couple a’ blokes but I'm over it now, right?  _ He thought of Stu and Pete in hopes that he could prove to himself that he just wasn't  _ queer.  _ But thinking of it now, John  _ still  _ found the two just a tad bit attractive. He could even  _ kiss  _ one of them if-  _ ‘M not queer for Christ's sake! _ Why was he having such a difficult time with this? Why couldn't he tell Paul that he  _ just wasn't queer?  _ They were mates- best mates in fact. They tell eachother everything and trust one another dearly. 

 

_ Trust.  _

 

John sighed. “I… 'm not queer but..,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I  _ may  _ have fancied a couple.. Blokes…” he trailed off. Paul's heart was racing at these words. He was finding it harder to breathe knowing that there was some type of possibility, a  _ chance  _ even, that John could feel  _ something  _ for him. 

 

“Oh.” Paul replied, his face turning red. The deafening silence came back and John felt his heart sink.  “Jus’... Jus’ forget everything, I'm so-” 

 

“No, no! It's okay. I.. I don't hate ya or anythin’. You're still my best mate and nothing could change that.” Paul smiled a bit to reassure his friend. John felt all the fear and anxiety wash away and he was finally able to crack a smile. “Thanks mate.” 

 

“No problem.” Paul was happy to see John relieved and smiling. “So,” he said. “Who are these  _ blokes  _ you've been fancying, eh?” Paul displayed his words jokingly, with a smile even, but really, he felt anxious to hear the answer. Very,  _ very  _ anxious. 

 

John smiled back. “Ya git..” He trailed off. “Eh, just people like um… Stu, Pete.” Paul felt a strong pang of jealousy impale his chest.  _ What's so special about them?  _ He wanted to ask.  _ They can't even play a damn instrument correctly.  _ Paul hummed. “But.. I'm pretty sure that this is all just some phase. I'll probably get over it by next week.. There's still girls out there waiting for the Great John Lennon to take them out, ya know?” John winked with his good eye and smiled bigger. 

 

It felt as if Paul's chest were filled with stones, pulling him down.  _ A phase? _ Jealousy spread through him like a wildfire.  _ Stu, Pete, and just “girls”?  _ He felt rage and sadness all at once. Paul swears to himself he's never felt this way before. To feel all of  _ this  _ because of  _ one _ person. Maybe deep down inside, Paul wanted to be the one John would talk about all the time. He wanted to be the first person John would resort to. He wanted to be his closest mate, his other half. Paul McCartney knew he wanted to do everything and anything with John Lennon, no matter how thick or thin the situation was. 

 

James Paul McCartney wanted to be his soulmate. 

 

He laughed at John's joke, acting as if he hadn't been thinking about what John really meant to him all this time. The moment he saw John laugh along with that  _ adorable  _ smile of his, the pain he felt not only two minutes ago had melted away completely. His heart was skipping beats and it was at this moment that Paul realized the auburn haired ted sitting in front of him made him so  _ happy.  _

 

_ Shit.  _ Paul thought.  _ I'm queer for John Winston Lennon. _

 

 


	2. Ch 2 - Worried Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John had gotten into another fight and he needs space to think. But he comes home to a small surprise.

**John**

_ 3 weeks later _

 

_ “Who ya starin’ at, Lennon?”  _

 

It was someone else this time. A different a voice, a different  _ bloke  _ that decided to start the conversation. A conversation that would scar John's reputation deeply. He thought back on his actions that day, feeling the heavy weight of regret flood inside of him. Fiddling with the cigarette between his fingers, he took another drag and leaned into the tree behind him. 

 

He needed to think. 

 

He really just needed to  _ think _ .

 

John inhaled, the smell of smoke and pine calming him just a bit. Running off into the forest had started to become a habit for John. It was nice to have a place where you could just sit in silence, he thought. 

 

_ “Uh.. Nobody.” John replied, even though he just wanted to grab his attention for a second, he wanted to see that reassuring smile that told him there was still somebody who- _

 

_ “Ya sure?” The bloke, who went by the name of Max, went to block whatever John was trying to meet eyes with. John furrowed his eyebrows together at his actions. Max scoffed and turned around, spotting a pair of blokes chatting with each other. “Starin’ at them?” He turned back to John with a smirk.  _

 

_ Maybe I shouldn't have searched for his eyes…  _ John thought. He began to wonder if it was stupid to feel safe and relieved because of two familiar pupils. Pinching his cigarette tighter, the guilt was impaling him knowing what came next.

 

_ John froze. “No. 'Course not. Why would I?”. Fear was suffocating his heart and his fist clenched. “Ye tell me, Lennon.,” He approached John, even closer now, crossing his arms and shooting him a challenging expression. “Ya queer like tha’ fella said you were a few weeks ago?” Max laughed at his own words and John couldn't help but feel heat rising to his cheeks.  _

 

_ “I ain't queer! Shut it, ya git.”  _

 

_ “Why ya gettin’ all defensive? ‘Twas only a joke.” He stepped back and eyed John. John couldn't say anything; He didn't even know  _ what  _ to say. Nervousness was filling his stomach and he did the only thing he did know how to do.  _

 

_ “John? Ye ok-”  _

 

_ Crack.  _

 

_ Blood spattered out of Max's nose and he fell to the floor shoulder first. Using his forearm to hold himself up on the floor, he turned to John sharply, covering his nose. “The  _ ‘ell  _ Lennon!”  _

 

_ More people were surrounding the scene and John felt his heart drop. “What's goin’ on?” A boy asked, switching glances between John and Max. “He fuckin’ punched me is what!” He shouted in pain and anger, being helped back up on his feet. Max stared directly at John. “That twat is queer! ‘S why he punched me in the first place!” He yelled. John's eyes widened and he ran off. His heart was beating fast and ran for what felt like hours.  _

 

_ And here I am.  _ John thought. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to meet eyes with them, maybe it was  _ their  _ fault that he was like this. Maybe John was just  _ stupid  _ for being like this. He dropped his cigar before crushing is with the tip of his black boot. Fixing his posture from leaning on the tree, he began to walk to his house.  _ Is it bad to want to meet eyes with my best mate?  _ He shoved his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket.  _ Dammit Paul. You're the only one who really knows and doesn't hate me for it...  _ John smiled at the thought. 

 

===

 

As soon as John opened the door to enter his house, Mimi could be found with a face that told him he wasn’t off the hook this time. He cleared his throat though, trying to quickly head to his room without getting another lecture. “Where do ye think yer goin’?” John could hear the deepness in her voice; the tone that made you freeze and hope that your consequences weren’t as painful as you’d know they’d be. John turned around silently. Mimi approached him, almost stomping on the way. “Wha’s this news about fighting Max? Hm?” She sounded quite impatient and John exhaled. 

 

“Wha’ about it? ‘T’s not like ye cared before!” John shot back. Mimi stared at him in disbelief. “Ye think I don’t-” she paused, shaking her head with a sigh. “Tha’s.. Tha’s a conversation for another time. But do ye know wha’ you’re puttin’ me through, John? I jus’ had to answer a call from their mum and da’ and apologize!” She was frowning now and all John did was stare. He told himself that it was easier to just let Mimi say what she wanted once she started, but today was different. This time it really wasn’t just some fight. As John was about to shoot Mimi a snarky remark, she stopped him. “Your little friend Paul even came by an’ he seemed worried sick abou’ ye!” John’s felt his heart stop upon hearing those words. 

 

“Paul stopped by?” He asked, the anger draining out of him and leaving him with a softer voice. “Yes!,” Mimi said. “In fact, ‘e’s been waitin’ in yer room, but tha’s not the point-” John looked up from the bottom of the stairs, realizing that Paul was only a few steps away. Of course, John would never admit to anyone that the thought of Paul was starting to make him smile. He began climbing up the steps. “We’re not done John-” He was already at the top before shouting, “Later, Mimi!” 

John approached his door with sweaty palms, seeing that it was slightly open. Getting closer, he tried to look through the small space between the door and the door frame for reassurance that Mimi wasn’t lying. Finally, he pushed the door open completely. The first thing John saw was a figure pacing the floor. Paul. “John!” Paul said in shock. John closed the door behind him slowly. Before he could say anything though, Paul continued. “You left me worried, John!”

 

John chuckled, feeling his heart clenching. “I left you worried? How so?” He plopped down on his bed, feeling his heartbeat quicken. Seeing Paul worry about John so much made John himself want to smile just a bit more every second. Well, of course, he wouldn’t let Paul see those smiles. Paul froze, staring at John . “Well…,” He started. “Ye… Ye jus’ ran off! Ye can’t expect me not to be worried.” His cheeks puffed and it was at this moment John noticed something different.  _ Oh yeah,  _ He thought.  _ Something is different.  _

 

John began to study Paul. “Wha’? Is there somethin’ on me face?” Paul said, self-consciousness evident in his voice.  _ Your cheeks are red.  _ John said to himself instead. “No, no.” He answered aloud. Paul sighed and sat beside John, a moment of silence falling between them. “Where’d you run off to anyways?” He asked. John shrugged. “A forest.” He bluntly replied. 

 

More silence. 

 

They began to look around the room until they made eye contact with each other, simply staring into each other's eyes. As cheesy at it sounds, it was true. John knew he could get lost in the doe eyes staring back at him, as if he hadn’t been getting lost in them already. Every second he stared at Paul was like a moment at peace and safety. He could stare at those eyes for an eternity; he wouldn’t mind. Punching Max and arguing with Mimi didn’t matter now. Not now, not ever, as long as he could be this comfortable (preferably with Paul) for the rest of his life.   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA I don't know if I got Mimi's personality right. Sorry for any typos I should really be sleeping right now but I hope you enjoyed!! MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY HANUKKAH!! OR JUST PLAIN OLD HAPPY DECEMBER!! :D


End file.
